


drown me in your love

by grey_dawn



Category: Shadowhunters (TV), The Mortal Instruments Series - Cassandra Clare, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - All Media Types, The Shadowhunter Chronicles - Cassandra Clare
Genre: (it was monday where i live), Cute, Downworlders, Fluff, Freeform, Freestyle, Implied/Referenced Homophobia, M/M, Malec, Malec Monday, Mundanes, Swimming, Swimming Pools, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, breaststroke, but mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-27
Updated: 2017-11-27
Packaged: 2019-02-07 11:35:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12840312
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey_dawn/pseuds/grey_dawn
Summary: a one-shot where magnus and alec go swimming.





	drown me in your love

**Author's Note:**

> this is the first time i've written for tmi, for malec, and a same-sex couple as well. a lot of firsts. i've never been a fan of the book series — just a personal preference — but the relationships explored in the freeform tv series drew me in. so here's a one-shot of magnus and alec going swimming because i haven't found any fic like this, and i like to imagine magnus teaching alec lots of new things.  
> enjoy, and i'd really appreciate feedback (this is one of my more experimental fanfic pieces!) :-)

Alec arrives at Magnus’ place one Sunday, bursting in the door.

“What’s wrong? Are you — oh,” Alec groans, “it’s one of your false alarms, isn’t it? Where you call me and sound so desperate and like you’re about to die, and it turns out you just wanted me here?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Don’t you know the boy who cried wolf?”

“Yes, actually, I did. Annoying little boy from Greece —”

“ _Magnus_.”

“Well, fine… I’ll try to do that less, but it _was_ time-sensitive today, dear. Oh, and hide your runes.”

Alec raises an eyebrow, but he's not as tense as he was. He obediently passes his stele over a rune, and all of them disappear. Magnus smiles. He snaps his fingers, sending a duffel bag into Alec’s arms, and reaches his other hand out to summon a portal. “After you,” he gestures, and Alec walks past Magnus and into the portal, dropping a kiss on Magnus’ forehead as he does so.

“Where are we?”

“The pool. Not snooker, not billiards, Alexander. The swimming pool.”

Alec frowns down at Magnus. “That _smell_.”

“It’s chlorine… Wait, Alexander, have you never been to a pool before?”

Alec clutches the duffel bag tighter, and glances at Magnus. “I have… We went to another pool once, at night, because of demons… the mundane police came, but thank the Angels for invisibility runes.”

Magnus barked out a surprised laugh. “So the one time you came to the pool, it was to chase demons? Don’t tell me you went to the movies for a good demon goose-chase too.”

Alec hesitates. Magnus’ jaw drops.

“ _No_. Okay, Alexander, let’s go swimming! And next time I’ll take you to the movies, where it’s dark, and I can cling to you during the scary parts… But that’s off-topic.”

Magnus ignores Alec’s rolled eyes, takes the duffel bag and rummages through it, pulling out two pairs of boardshorts. He hands the black, albeit glittery, pair to Alec, keeping the patterned one in his hand.

“Let’s go change.”

Alec is done changing first. He stands outside the male toilet, leaning against the wall. Some young women exiting the female toilet glance at him for a few beats too long, but Alec pays them no mind, staring into space. Magnus, as always, takes an extravagant amount of time to be ready; after all, he has had the luxury of time — a few hundred years of it, to be exact.

“This is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made.”

Magnus steps out of the toilet, makeup removed, looking at Alec very appreciatively — _extremely_ appreciatively, eyes crinkling at the sides in that exact way that makes Alec want to press his lips to Magnus’ temple.

But having Magnus scan his entire torso is rather distracting. Alec blushes, his face setting on fire (as if summer wasn’t hot enough already).

“Yeah. Um, well. Should we… go into the pool now?”

A corner of Magnus’ lips turns up in a smirk. “After you, so I can stare at that ass.”

“Stop it, Magnus.” But Alec’s smiling a little now, and leans down to press a kiss on Magnus before heading to the pool.

As Alec approaches the edge, a group of little old ladies wade to the other side as if repelled by a magnet. Clearly they'd seen Alec and Magnus’ interaction. Alec waved it off — old mundane women were nothing compared to the Clave and everyone in the New York Institute — but Magnus caught up to him and squeezed his shoulder.

They got into the pool — “Why is it so _cold_ , Magnus?” — and found themselves a stretch of wall to lean against.

“Can you swim?”

“Alexander, I came from a country of tropical islands. Swimming was practically invented there. Yes, I can swim. Can _you_?”

Alec glowers at the water, sending a fist through the surface, which, surprisingly, is rather gratifying. Some of the water splashes into Magnus’ face, who dashes his forearm in Alec’s direction, sending water skidding towards him.

Then Alec puts distance between them both and pushes water at Magnus, palms out. The next blast of water that hits Alec is boosted by a twist of magic, sending the pool-water straight for him.

“A _honing_ spell? Really?”

“Be quiet,” Magnus whispers theatrically, “it’s our little secret.”

Alec can’t help it. He can’t help it when little bursts of laughter splutter out as he realises the ridiculous situation they’re in: a Shadowhunter and a Downworlder at a mundane swimming pool, childishly splashing each other with water.

Not to mention the little old ladies, dear things they are, paddling over all the way to the other side, lengthwise, far, far away from him and Magnus.

They continue splashing water at each other, laughing, oblivious to the disgruntled looks and the curious stares, until both Alec and Magnus are soaked, hair dripping, and laughing so much, Alec feels winded — he can’t remember laughing so much before.

Finally, Alec holds up his hands in mock defeat. “You win, you win!”

Magnus’ lips curve up in victory. “Now, then, Alexander, shall we start swimming?”

The grin slips from Alec’s face like melted butter. Alec reaches a hand up to scratch at his neck. “I can’t swim.”

Magnus’ mouth forms a small _oh_. “I thought you meant you were bad at it,” he mumbles.

But the awkward moment only last second, because the grin is back on Magnus’ face in a second, and Alec briefly wonders why Magnus likes glitter so much — it isn’t like he needs it; his grin is sparkling.

“I’ll teach you then, Alexander.”

“Teach me?”

“Yes. Of course, I’ll… incentivise you, dear student.”

Alec sputters so much Magnus has to reassure him he’s joking ( _or is he?_ ).

When Magnus is sure no one’s looking, he snaps his fingers and a blue kickboard materialises. Alec groans when he sees it.

“You’re not serious.”

“You just hold onto the top of the board…” Magnus grabs ahold of the kickboard and pushes away from the wall, “and kick.”

He kicks right in Alec’s face, and water assaults Alec’s face.

“Oh, right. Almost forgot,” Magnus muses, snapping his fingers for two pairs of goggles. “Put these on.”

Alec complies, but goes, “Can I not use the kickboard? Come on, Magnus, _please_.”

Magnus thinks for a second, and the smile that unfurls on his face is slow and wide. Alec considers taking back his plea, but decides that whatever evil Magnus has in store for him can’t be worse than paddling across the pool with a kick board like a five-year-old.

He’s wrong.

“I can help you float,” Magnus drawls, “come on, Alexander, kick off from the ground and tilt your body forward. Then I’ll support you.”

What he didn’t say was how. As Alec complies, he feels Magnus’ warm, steady hands on his abdomen, keeping him flat on the surface of the water. He instinctively clenches his abdomen as goosebumps prick him skin — the contrast between the cool water and the warmth of Magnus’ hands makes Alec shiver.

He can almost feel Magnus smiling. Alec breaks from the position, his feet finding the tiled pool floor again.

“ _Magnus_!”

“Yes, Alexander?”

“Stop sounding so pleased.”

“It’s not every day I get to see my graceful Shadowhunter flounder around, leaving me to best him.”

“You beat me in a lot of things already!”

Magnus lets out a laugh, high and carefree, and Alec melts. With Magnus, he feels like a mundane with an uncomplicated life, with only subway breakdowns and rent to worry about. Definitely not life-threatening situations like hordes of demons, or —

Or a boyfriend who’s trying to drown him, apparently (which, to be clear, is life-threatening too). Because Magnus has kicked his feet out from under him with such force, Alec stumbles and does half a somersault with a quarter-turn. In other words, he ends up slapping the water on his side, kicking furiously to regain balance.

“Darling, watching you flap around is fun, but would you like me to teach you? For real.”

Alec fixes Magnus with a blank stare. “I thought you’d never ask. You’re lucky I love you.”

Magnus titters, a short one, and says, “I am.”

So Alec finds himself floating again, supported by Magnus’ hands. He can just tell how much Magnus is enjoying himself. Ugh.

“Put your arms out, head down, and kick,” Magnus instructs. It’s new, having Magnus teach him something like this, where he has to follow Magnus’ every instruction.

Alec does so obediently, kicking a good distance until he runs out of air.

He runs out of air when he’s almost at the end of the pool. Magnus hurriedly swims over in freestyle, arms arcing over and down, over and down gracefully.

“Mundanes don’t usually swim so fast in a single breath. Maybe…”

“Oh. Yeah.”

“Well, that was an excellent start. Why don’t we…”

Alec learns step-by-step how to swim freestyle. It takes half an hour, because he’s a fast learner, and his agility and good balance serve him well.

Magnus’ advice sounds in his head as Alec kick-kick-kicks his way to the other side: kick above the water, make a splash; arms by his ears; make a full arc, but curve the elbow slightly; swivel head to the right to inhale. With a flourish, he whips off his goggles when he gets to the end.

“You did it!”

“I did it!” Alec hasn’t felt so excited about anything, much less anything so trivial, in so, so long. Yet he wants to shout it out to the world: he can swim! He’s surprisingly tired! He wants to keep swimming with his boyfriend even though his fingers are all wrinkled!

Alec grabs Magnus and lifts him up by the waist — water makes it so much easier. Then before he rethinks his decision he’s kissing Magnus right there in the pool, and he can smell the chlorine on Magnus’ face but his euphoria makes up for it all.

They finally break away, and Alec sees people turning their backs to look away from them but he doesn’t care.

“Will I get this kind of reward again when I teach you the next stroke?”

“The frog one? How many strokes are there?”

“Four main ones, and some derivatives. The _frog one_ , which is breaststroke, dear, is indeed next. But first… Alexander, would you like to race?”

Alec might not be the most conventional Shadowhunter — he just kissed a male Downworlder in a mundane swimming pool, by the Angel — but he _does_ have that extra dose of competitiveness the Nephilim are known for.

He nods, and both of them position their goggles.

Magnus backs up against the wall, clinging onto it with one hand, and Alec copies his position.

There’s no _3… 2… 1…_ or anything, but they shoot forward at the same time, kicking off the wall, and glide. Then Alec begins swimming really hard. The hardest ever — though he just began swimming that day, so it isn’t saying that much.

When he tilts his head sideways to breathe, through the grey-tinted goggle lens he can see Magnus arcing his right arm up and back int the water, and his _arms_. They’re good arms, Alec thinks, before realising he’s in the middle of a race.

He speeds on and after maybe twenty, thirty seconds he touches the wall at the other end of the pool. He rights himself to see Magnus leaning against it. _Damn._

Magnus steps closer to him, and Alec’s always found it adorable how Magnus is level with his shoulder. Magnus tilts his head up.

“I win. What prize do I get, Alexander?”

Alec has to fight off the smile, the ridiculously goofy smile that Magnus keeps managing to pull out of Gloomy Alec.

“You can collect later back home,” Alec murmurs back. “Rematch?”

Magnus looks at him with those laughing, crinkled eyes again. “Yes.”

Magnus wins again, and after a bit more splashing they get out of the pool, dripping wet.

They dry off with towels from the duffel bag, and go into a bathroom stall together — luckily there isn’t anybody in there — so Magnus can portal them back to his loft.

“How did you go so fast?”

“Practice and technique, darling,” Magnus replies, amused. “And I stay focused. Don’t think I didn’t notice you staring.”

“It wasn’t that long!”

“Long enough, Alexander.”

They go to shower and Alec can’t help but wonder what he would do without Magnus. Definitely not go swimming. He’d be staying at the Institute, even on Sundays like this perfect, sunny one.

“Magnus?”

“Yes, darling?”

“Can we go swimming again next Sunday?”

“So you can lose again?”

“Hey. One of these days…”

“Sure, dear.”

 


End file.
